


Oh Darlin'

by cordelianoir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Genji's a good bro, Hanzo too, Hospital, Internalized Homophobia, Jesse's really hard on himself, M/M, SexWorker!McCree, Unreliable Narrator, Wedding, businessman!Hanzo, discussion of past/ofscreen rape/abuse, discussion of prositution, discussion of sex, don't talk to yourself like this, gentle!Jesse, grumpy hanzo, lots of self-loathing and unhealthy internal monologue, modern!AU, negative self-talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18855541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordelianoir/pseuds/cordelianoir
Summary: You need to leave,” he said after a moment.Jesse blinked rapidly. It wasn’t overt, but Hanzo could tell he was taken aback.“If I ain’t what you’re looking for…” Jesse said slowly. “I can call the agency and see if there’s anyone more to your tastes who can come over tonight…”“It doesn’t matter. I am that sure Genji would be happier thinking that I—”Then a thought occurred to Hanzo... If Jesse stayed, Hanzo could conceivably spend the rest of the night in this room. He could be left in peace under the assumption that this man was keeping him pleasantly occupied.--------------------During his Bachelor Party, Genji hires Jesse McCree to have sex with Hanzo. It doesn't turn out exactly as he had planned.





	1. Save a Horse…

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this idea for a monster of a fic. Here is the first chapter. I really didn't even edit this one too much, so I apologize for any moments that seem unclear and any other errors. 
> 
> Please, let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from you in the comments if this is a story you'd be interested in seeing continue. I have a lot of ideas for this one, but it would be a lot longer than any other fanfic I've written and take a lot more effort. So let me know what you think and if this is a story you'd like to see continue!

The knock on Hanzo’s hotel door was not entirely unexpected. He knew that at some point during his brother’s bachelor party weekend, the younger man was guaranteed to drag him out on some sort of ill-advised adventure. Hanzo had just hoped that he would have been able to finish his emails first. 

He stood and rolled his shoulders back, trying to throw off the stiffness from too many hours spent in front of a computer. If Genji was outside his door, he must have noticed Hanzo’s tactful escape from the party before things got too out of hand. He had hoped that Genji would see that he could have more fun without his older brother peering over his shoulder. But Hanzo should have known better. Genji had insisted that they have fun tonight. Said that Hanzo did not give himself enough time to relax and enjoy life. It was true, but it didn’t mean that Genji should have said it in front of all his friends. 

Personally, Hanzo thought it was extravagant for Genji to rent out a floor of a hotel exclusively for the debauchery of his stag night. But at least it was clean and notably not a strip club. Hanzo was not predisposed to such activities, but he supposed that one had to make certain concessions the weekend before a brother’s wedding. Thankfully Genji’s more self-distructive habits seemed to have tapered off in recent years. 

With a sigh, he strode over the hotel room door and swung it open. 

“Howdy, Sweetheart.”

Hanzo just stood there for a moment, stunned into inaction. Instead of the familiar form of his brother, more than six feet of solid, American cowboy stood in his doorway. He looked absurd. From his worn leather boots to the blanket thrown around his shoulders and the sun-beaten hat covering his over-long hair. 

Gathering his wits about him, Hanzo opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger beat him to it. 

“Are you Hanzo Shimada?”

He could only nod dumbly, prompting a slow, warm smile to spread across the suntanned face. 

“Well then, looks like I’m in the right place,” he said, sweeping the battered Stetson off his head an holding it against his chest like a walking cliché. “Name’s Joel, honey. Alright if I come in?”

He looked like a caricature. Spoke like one too. Like he was an escapee from one of the videos Hanzo had hidden deep in his computer. The ones even he only watched on the loneliest of nights…

Oh. Oh no. 

“Genji,” Hanzo breathed.

Joel either didn’t recognize or didn’t mind the pure loathing behind the name. He just kept that gentle smile on his face, even as Hanzo stuck his head into the hall and looked around. 

“Yeah, you’re brother hired me to come ‘round and make sure you had a good time tonight,” the cowboy confirmed. His voice was low and resonant in a way that seemed to surge down Hanzo’s spine. But now wasn’t the time to notice that. 

Sure enough, Hanzo saw what he was looking for. Genji’s head was poking out of another door down the hall. His fiancé had thankfully convinced him to keep his hair its natural shade of black until after the wedding ceremony but he had more than a few green streamers stuck in his hair. Thankfully, he wasn’t filming this ridiculous event on his phone. He simply winked and pointed a little finger gun at Hanzo before disappearing back into the heart of the party. 

Hanzo wanted to scream. Whatever his brother’s meddlesome plans, he had no intention of taking some corner hooker to bed. He turned back to the other man to tell him this just as another group of men from the wedding party spilled out of another door.

Panic surged through him. Hanzo could not be found with a man, let alone a prostitute, outside his door. If word got back to his father…

Acting more on instinct than reason, Hanzo grabbed the cowboy by the arm and dragged him inside the room, slamming the door closed before the other men could get a glimpse of Genji’s stupid idea of a gift. 

“Woah there, sweetheart,” Joel said as he stumbled inside. “You’ve got me all night, there’s no rush.”

Hanzo just pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d considered getting a piercing there once in a childish fit of rebelliousness. Now, he just closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and tried to figure out how to get a walking cliché out of his hotel room inconspicuously. 

“You need to leave,” he said after a moment. 

Joel blinked rapidly. It wasn’t overt, but Hanzo could tell he was taken aback. 

“If I ain’t what you’re looking for…” Joel said slowly. “I can call the agency and see if there’s anyone more to you’re tastes who can come over tonight…”

The cowboy was already reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a cellphone by the time Hanzo put up his hand.

“I do not require anyone else,” he explained shortly. “I just need you to leave. As discreetly as possible.”

Joel just looked at him, shifting slightly from foot to foot as if he wasn’t sure if he should be fighting or fleeing in this situation. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it and plopped his cowboy hat back onto his head. 

“Are you sure?” he asked after a moment. 

He looked almost disappointed although Hanzo couldn’t fathom why. Surely it was prudent for a prostitute to move from one engagement to the next as quickly as possible. 

“Yer brother already paid fer the night, and quite frankly I’m not sure Ashe’ll give ya a refund…”

Oh. It was about the money. Hanzo almost felt relieved. Money was simple, easy to understand. Where people were complex and hid their true intentions, money was exactly what it claimed to be. No trickery involved. 

“That is quite alright,” Hanzo assured, turning to look through the small peephole in the door, “It doesn’t matter. I am that sure Genji would be happier thinking that I—”

Shit. Genji.

Tomorrow, Genji would want to know what had happened. He would be so pleased with himself for finally finding a way to sneak a man into Hanzo’s life. Genji would see it as a perfect opportunity for Hanzo to sleep with someone he was actually attracted to, rather than the carefully curated list of young women deemed appropriate marriage material by their father. Genji must have spent time researching an escort that would come to this hotel after Hanzo made his inevitable escape from the party. Genji must have jumped at the opportunity to hire someone who looked like the protagonist of every wet dream Hanzo had experienced after seeing Brokeback Mountain. 

Genji had been watching to make sure Hanzo didn’t send Joel away immediately. Had perhaps even sent the other men into the hall to force Joel inside the room. Genji had set all of this up in a sweet, if misplaced, display of affection for his brother. Genji would be so disappointed if Hanzo had sent Joel away without so much as a kiss. 

But maybe…

“All night, you said?” Hanzo said softly, hand still on the doorknob.

“Yes, sir.”

Hanzo turned back to the cowboy and looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time. 

He was handsome. There was no denying that. Tall and broad in all the right places with shaggy hair and warm brown eyes that were just starting to crease around the edges. His skin was tanned with just the barest trace of freckles across the cheekbones. He had a thick beard that looked well cared for if a little shaggy. One of his hands, now resting on his gun belt, appeared to be a prosthetic. It was shiny and chrome, but scuffed and dented with use. A bottle of lube was peaking out of one of the compartments on his belt and Hanzo had no doubt that there were condoms hiding in there as well. How had had Genji had to look to find a prostitute with such a specific appearance? Then again, maybe Joel had a number of costumes and simply adjusted himself for the customer. 

If Joel stayed, Hanzo could conceivably spend the rest of the night in this room. He could finish his emails, order some dinner and maybe even get a start on the pile of paperwork waiting for his return to the office on Monday. He would not be woken up at two in the morning by Genji insisting that he try some of the ridiculous green champagne he had ordered or some other foolishness. He could be left in peace under the assumption that this… this man was keeping him pleasantly occupied. 

And it would make Ganji happy. It would be a kind of early wedding present, even, to let his brother believe that Hanzo was spending the night in the arms of a handsome man.

“Alright,” Hanzo said with a short sigh. “You may stay.”

Joel seemed to find this amusing. His eyebrows rose and his smile curled up into the corners of his eyes. 

“Why thank’ya kindly,” he said, eyes sparking with mirth. 

Hanzo nodded curtly in reply, brushing by the cowboy to return to where his laptop was resting on the hotel room desk. 

“Please remove your shoes,” he added, gesturing back to where his own shoes were neatly lined up against by the door. 

Obligingly, the cowboy dropped onto the bed and started removing his boots. One of the soles was peeling up at the toe and it made a soft slapping noise as Joel removed it and lined it up with the other shoes along the wall. The well-worn leather tops flopped over onto each other without a hand to support them. They looked odd next to Hanzo’s highly polished black wingtips, like the boots had wandered on their own and made themselves at home despite their obvious disparity. 

Hanzo’s computer made a little blinging noise to let him know he was logged in and he snapped his attention away from the cowboy and his ridiculous shoes. He had work to do. 

He managed to write and send off exactly one email before he was interrupted. 

“Ya do know I’m a hooker, right?”

Hanzo blinked away from the screen to look at Joel. He had removed the red and gold blanket from around his shoulders and folded it neatly next to where he sat at the edge of the bed. He was leaning back on his arms in a way that almost looked lazy. Only a lifetime of martial arts training and his father’s tutelage made Hanzo notice the tension in the other man’s muscles.

“I gathered that, yes,” Hanzo answered dryly. 

“So long as we’re on the same page,” Joel said with a shrug. 

“I am not going to sleep with you,” Hanzo said, turning back to his laptop. 

“What’re you plannin’ on, then?”

Joel’s voice was light but when Hanzo looked back at the bed he found the other man’s gaze was a cold as steel. 

“I am going to finish my work while my brother thinks me otherwise occupied.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re gonna lie to your brother?”

“I’m going to conveniently avoid the subject of tonight,” Hanzo said shortly, starting to get annoyed at the gall of this man. 

Jesse just snorted as the ghost of a smile came back to his face. 

“Well, so long as it’s convenient.” 

Hanzo turned back to his computer, but he had a harder time focusing on the request for more details about a client’s account, which he had been handling personally. 

It was a good ten minutes and three emails later that Hanzo finally gave into temptation and looked back at the bed. Joel seemed to have settled somewhat. He had crossed his legs on the foot of the bed and was resting his chin on one hand while the other tapped at his phone. Hanzo could see the skin of Joel’s left big toe and both his heels through holes in his socks. Still, his eyes flicked up to watch Hanzo when the typing stopped. 

“Change your mind, pumpkin?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Hanzo had to breathe deeply to keep the redness out of his cheeks. 

“I have not yet had dinner,” he said instead. “Pick something out.”

Hanzo pulled the room service menu from under a pile of hotel stationary and tossed it across to the bed. The cowboy caught it effortlessly from the air.

“What’re you in the mood for?”

“Something with rice,” Hanzo said imperially with a wave of his hand. “Just call down to the front desk and have them charge it to the room. And order whatever you like for yourself.” Hanzo added as if it were an after thought. 

And that was how Hanzo Shimada, heir to a multi-billion dollar company, found himself eating Indian curry with a prostitute at one in the morning a week before his brother’s wedding. They were both sitting on the little sofa facing the hotel room TV although it wasn’t on. Joel was devouring the hamburger with a single-minded intensity that Hanzo associated with battle rather than dinner. His own curry wasn’t bad, but it wouldn’t be winning any awards either. Hanzo picked at it and wondered idly if he should order dessert.

He wasn’t sure what might lead a person to trade sex for money, but he could tell that new socks and consistent caloric intake weren’t high on Joel’s list of priorities. Maybe he was an alcoholic? More likely a drug addict, but a surprisingly well groomed one if that were the case. 

Still, he slowed down once the burger disappeared, taking his time with the fries and pickle spear. Hanzo took another spoonful of curry as Joel idly dragged a French fry through a pool of ketchup. 

“So…” Joel said after the silence had dragged on for a while. “Can I ask the obvious question?”

Hanzo blinked. 

“And what would that be?” he asked.

Joel gave a little self-deprecating smile. “Why hire a whore you’re not gonna sleep with?”

“I didn’t hire you,” Hanzo pointed out, reeling more than he wanted to admit from the blunt nature of the question. “My brother did.”

“Fair enough,” Joel said, waving a fry in the air, “Why keep me around then?”

Hanzo pressed his lips together, not entirely sure how much he was willing to confide in this veritable stranger. 

“It will make Genji happy,” he settled on at length, “to believe I’ve… taken action in this part of my life.”

“Why?” Joel asked through a mouthful of pickle.

Hanzo grimaced and used one finger to press Joel’s mouth closed as he chewed. 

“We were raised in a very… traditional household. My… proclivities were not spoken of. Not… tolerated.”

“Being gay?” Joel asked, thankfully after swallowing the pickle. 

“Yes,” Hanzo answered softly, a little distracted by the movement of Joel’s adam’s apple when he swallowed. 

“So why not fuck then?” Joel asked and Hanzo winced at his bluntness. “You’ve got a guy in your room, ready an willing to anything you want in bed and you’re, what? Surfing the Web instead?”

“I’m answering work emails,” Hanzo said petulantly. 

“That’s even worse!” Joel exclaimed, waving a fry around for emphasis. 

Hanzo pressed his lips together into a thin, cold line. 

After a moment, Joel seemed to loose some of his fire, dropping his hand to drag his fry listlessly through the ketchup. 

“Like I said, if I ain’t what you’re lookin’ for, I can get someone over here who is.”

It was a surprisingly thoughtful offer from a man in a cowboy hat. But Hanzo just shook his head. 

“You are plenty attractive,” Hanzo admitted with a sigh. “But I—“

He broke off, trying to assemble his thoughts into something this man would understand. Joel stayed strangely quiet, watching Hanzo wrestle with his words with a stillness he wouldn’t have thought the cowboy capable of before this. 

“I have not always been the type of person to others with respect,” Hanzo settled on at last. “I have… changed my limits of what is and is not acceptable behavior for myself and—“

“And sleepin’ with a hooker is over that line?” Joel asked softly.

Hanzo grimaced and took another bit of his meal. 

“It is closer to that line than I’m willing to go right now.”

Joel nodded and ate a few more fries before Hanzo continued.

“I worry that… indulging my own desires in such a manner might lead me to ignore the boundaries of others again. Ignore where my own boundaries should be.”

Hanzo could still feel the blood on his hands. His brother’s own scream as Hanzo sliced the katana over his back, determined that he was doing right by the family right until the moment that Genji had collapsed. 

Genji had found closure and forgiveness with the Shambali Order, but Hanzo knew he would never forgive himself for what he had been willing to do. Since that day, he had devoted his every waking moment to the service of others. He made sure the company ran smoothly, that no one had to work overtime they did not want to. He made sure his brother was happy, first with the Order and later with Angela. 

As it turned out, she had been the resident in the ER the night Genji had been wheeled in, half-dead from blood loss. She had been the one to carefully suture the wounds closed and start the blood transfusion. She had every right to hate Hanzo, to withhold his invitation to the wedding. And yet, she didn’t. She hadn’t. He would be standing at Genji’s side in less than a week’s time, watching his little brother get married. Genji’s best man, despite what he had done. 

Hanzo swallowed. He had been that kind of man before—the kind that would think nothing of using a man like Joel for the night, paying him a pittance and throwing him out the door once it was done. Hanzo used others for his own gain and pleasure, regardless of the toll on them. He would not be that man again.

“So… what now?” Joel asked, after chewing the last of his fries.

Hanzo blinked up at him, jerked from his reverie. 

“I mean, if you wanna pay me to sit here and eat a burger with you, I ain’t gonna complain. But if you wanna get your money’s worth outta me, that’s fine too.”

Hanzo scowled at the other man’s self-deprecating smile.

“I just explained—“

“You explained why you don’t wanna sleep with me, and I get it,” Joel said with an easy smile. “But there’s plenty of other things we could do.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to argue, but found himself at a loss to imagine what else one might do with a prostitute at one in the morning. 

For his part, Joel just kept smiling that small, easy smile. 

“Well we could sit here and cuddle, if that ain’t against your delicate sensibilities,” he teased. “Maybe put on a movie. Maybe get some popcorn or something, an’ I could feed it to ya.”

He was a lot closer suddenly, leaning into the sofa cushion between them.

“I ain’t against just holdin’ you until you fall asleep, neither,” Joel continued softly. He wasn’t technically in Hanzo’s space, or touching him at all. Just hovering there beside him, warm and inviting. An option, but not a demand. 

“Perhaps a film,” Hanzo said slowly. His voice sounded oddly breathy to his ears. 

Joel’s smile was like watching a sunrise over a mountain. His whole face lit up with it before his mouth moved at all. 

Hanzo fell asleep like that somewhere around two in the morning. The TV turned on to whatever was on pay per view and Joel’s arm slung around his shoulders. At some point his head fell to rest on one of those broad shoulders, but the cowboy didn’t seem to mind. 

He woke up after nine the next morning – late for him, but much earlier than the rest of the wedding party. Joel was gone, but Hanzo felt surprisingly well rested for having sent the night sitting upright on a hotel room sofa. 

All of his belongings were still there, which Hanzo hadn’t realized was a worry until he checked them all. He felt light, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He had talked about his sexuality to someone other than his brother and the world hadn’t ended. He had refused to sleep with a man who was interested in him and Joel had been nothing but understanding, suggesting cuddling and a movie instead. 

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. The wedding would happen next week and the honeymoon after. Shimada Enterprises would continue unimpeded with Hanzo at the helm. Everything was going to be alright. 

For the surprising amount of peace he felt that morning as the sun streamed in through the hotel room window, Hanzo only wished he had thought to tip Joel before he left.


	2. Ride a Cowboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Jesse's life...

Jesse swore as his hand hit into the too-hot engine of the car he was working on. It would have been cool by now if the car’s asshole owner had brought it in by seven a.m. like he’d said the day before. But he’d brought it in at 11 instead, still insisting that he needed his car back by 8 the next morning.

Well, he hadn't actually brought it in. His hired assistant had parked the car in a frenzy apologizing profusely and explaining that his boss, Akande Ogundimu, had only just given him the car. Torbjörn had been spitting mad and ready to tell both owner and assistant where they could shove their expectations, but Jesse had just sidled up behind them and announced that he’d manage the timeline just fine.

If it hadn’t been a hard-light engine, Jesse might have just let Torb blow a gasket on the poor guy. It wasn’t the assistant’s fault, but Jesse had enough self-preservation to not want to get in the way of an angry Swede. But they had few enough hard-light customers as it was and they paid a hell of a lot more.  

The assistant looked like Jesse had just pushed him out of the way of a bullet. Hell, maybe he had. But that didn’t change the fact that Jesse was trying to work on a car that needed at least an hour to cool down. Hopefully whatever problem the car had would be small enough that he could get it done by the time the shop closed at six. With any luck the, problem would also be completely mechanical. If it was a programming error, Jesse wasn’t quite sure what he could do for the assistant.

The plan had been for Jesse to finish up his certificate for hard-light programming last summer. But after the diagnosis… well, Jesse hadn’t had the same kind of schedule since then. He had the credentials to work on the hardware at least, so the shop could take in a few cars a week that ran off hard-light energy. But if anything came up in the programming, Jesse legally had to refer them to another shop.

Turret Auto Mechanics wasn’t the biggest shop, but they did good work. They had three hydraulic lifts (named Bastian, Orisa and Bob by Torb’s kids) and good people. Zarya mostly did body work although she certainly wasn’t against getting her hands into an engine. Torb ran the front (along with their part-time receptionist, Sombra) and tinkered on whatever he felt like that day, sometimes building entire cars from scratch. His eldest daughter, Brigitte came in most days after school too. She wasn’t even a legal adult, but she could work on a car as well as anyone else in the shop. Hammond and Jesse did most of the heavy lifting though. Despite Hammond’s speech impediment, the man was lightning fast. He walked fast, he drove fast and he fixed cars even faster. Jesse wasn’t entirely sure why the small, sandy-haired man didn’t speak, but if Hammond really had something to communicate (or just a sick burn to drop) he typed it into his phone and allowed a synthesized voice to say it for him.

Shortly after Hammond had joined the shop, Torb had approached Jesse and asked him if he’d like to take some courses on Hard Light and expand the shop’s clientele. At the time, Jesse had been over the moon. Becoming a hard light mechanic would mean a considerable pay raise and might even allow him to save up enough for night classes and finally get that associate’s degree he’d been talking about for years. But when Mattie got diagnosed… well things had been different.

Jesse was distracted from that morbid line of thought by his phone chiming. Sighing at the too-hot car, he reached into his pocket and looked at through the spider web of cracks on the screen to the new text messages.

The first was from Ashe, saved as “Liz” in his phone just to piss her off. She was technically acting has his pimp these days. She’d done it before when they were both in Deadlock, but it was different these days. Her cut was a flat fee for arranging things rather than a percentage and she was acting independently rather than trying to fatten the gang’s coffers. When the three of them had left, Jesse had sworn he’d never resort to this sort of thing again. But… well it was undeniably a quick way to make money. It also helped that it wasn’t taxable income on account of it being… well… illegal.

Jesse thumbed open the screen to read the message.

Liz: Gave your number to a client. Should contact you soon.

Jesse scowled at the phone. That wasn’t unusual. He had an internet-based phone number specifically for that purpose. She usually let him know ahead of time, but he hadn’t planned on picking any jobs up until the weekend. Jesse frowned at the screen as a new message chimed in from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi will you come to my wedding on Saturday?

Jesse blinked at the message for a moment before the three little dots appeared to let him know there was more information coming.

Unknown: This is Genji btw

Unknown: Shimada

Unknown: You slept with my brother on Saturday

“Shit,” Jesse swore under his breath.

With a quick wave at Zarya, Jesse hustled out of the shop and ducked into one of the cars on the lot before calling the phone number. He felt a little guilty ducking out on Torb like that, but he figured it was kind of like a smoke break. He’d stopped smoking after the diagnosis, but nicotine patches were expensive and the one on his bicep was doing jack shit right now.

“Moshi Moshi,” Genji Shimada said, picking up on the second ring.

“Hey Mr. Shimada, this is Joel,” Jesse said quickly, easily using the name of his alternate persona.

“Oh good, hi!” the other man responded quickly, sounding far too pleased to be speaking with a prostitute he’d given an obscene amount of money to sleep with somebody else.

“You’re text was…” Jesse searched for the right words. Not weird. Never weird. As a hooker, Jesse had to be into anything, so long as condoms and reasonable precautions were taken. The only thing he’d ever had to say a hard ‘no’ to was a guy who wanted to snub out his cigarettes on Jesse’s thighs.

“Too vague?” Genji supplied easily, oblivious to the turmoil on the other end of the line.

“Sorry about that,” Jesse was surprised to find that Genji sounded legitimately regretful. “I’d like you to come to my wedding and the reception as my brother’s date.”

Jesse opened his mouth, but couldn’t figure out what to say to that. 

“I’d reimburse you for your time, of course,” Genji added. “Is $100 an hour still alright?”

Jesse barked out a laugh in the quiet heat of the car.

“That’s my rate for staying overnight and having sex,” Jesse pointed out, “Not standing around schmoozing your friends with a drink in my hand.”

“$200 an hour, then,” Genji said easily before Jesse could even reproach himself for pointing out the overpayment.

“What?” Jesse croaked out.

“$200 an hour for Saturday,” Genji said again, like it wasn’t an obscene figure. “Probably into Sunday morning too. The wedding’s at two, so let’s say one p.m. on Saturday until 10 a.m. Sunday. That alright?”

Jesse leaned forward and put his head on the steering wheel of the car that wasn’t even his. He did some quick mental math. That was 21 hours, at the same rate he’d charge for really raucous sex, to what? Walk around a party? Pretend like he was hung up on a handsome man? And then, Hanzo probably wouldn’t even want to sleep with him at the end of the night. He’d be making more than two months’ rent and utilities in one night. It would be stupid to say no. It would also be stupid to say yes.

“What’s the catch?” he asked. He tried to keep his voice light, keep a little chuckle behind the words. But it sounded forced even to his own ears.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, then a rustle and the sound of a door closing.

“Look, Joel,” Genji said more quietly than before. “My brother isn’t exactly… the most personable of people. These last three days since you were with him…” Genji trailed off and sighed again. “It feels like I’ve got my brother back.”

Against his better judgment, a little questioning noise slipped out of Jesse’s closed mouth.

“Hanzo’s always been under a lot of pressure,” Genji continued. “From the family, the company, just… He’s been so relaxed these last few days. He’s acting like the Hanzo I grew up with rather than— I just… I want him to be happy, whatever that means.”

Jesse swallowed.

“I’m not sure that hiring a hooker to hang out with him at your wedding is going to make him more relaxed though.” He’d aimed for a glib tone but missed by a mile. The voice that came out was quiet and strained.

He really, _really_ didn’t want to talk Genji out of paying him over $4,000 for one day of work. But at the same time, from what he knew of Hanzo, this plan wasn’t going to get the results Genji wanted. And Jesse knew that an unhappy customer was not one that paid willingly.

“It is worth a shot,” Genji responded resolutely. When Jesse didn’t respond right away he continued, “My brother carries many burdens on his shoulders. Better that he be thinking of you than those worries on a day like this.”

Jesse sighed. He could say no. He could walk away from this whole weird situation and forget all about the Shimada brothers. But he couldn’t. Not really. That kind of money wasn’t something to just turn your back on. Even if they just beat him up in an ally and left him to rot for 21 hours, Jesse would take it for $4,200 of non-taxable income. Rent. Utilities. Food. A new jacket for Hazel. Putting a dent in the ever-mounting medical bills. Money meant all of those things. Money meant time to spend with Mattie and Hazel, rather than on a street corner hoping for some guy to want his dick sucked badly enough to throw cash at a scruffy cowboy.

“Okay,” Jesse said with a deep breath, desperately wishing for a cigarillo.

“Thank you,” Genji said gravely like Jesse had just agreed to go to a warzone rather than a wedding.

Jesse found an old receipt in his pocket and scribbled down the address to a fancy hotel near the water as Genji rattled it off from memory. 

“The colors are pastel yellow and green, but whatever color suit you have will work,” Genji explained.

“A suit,” Jesse said, chewing on the cap of the cheap ballpoint pen he’d found in the car’s center divider. “Right. Might need a little advance on some of that payment then…” he said with an awkward little chuckle. He immediately started totaling up how much a suit might cost. Could he find one at the Goodwill? Maybe that thrift shop downtown? How much would that take out of the total? And how much time would it take away from time he could spend working?

“You don’t have a suit?” Genji asked, as if Jesse had just announced that he didn’t have a nose.

“Nah,” Jesse answered self-consciously. The last time he’d worn a suit he’d been twelve and at his mother’s funeral. That suit had been from Goodwill too.

“Are you near to any department stores right now?” Genji demanded.

“What? I mean there’s a Macy’s a few blocks over but…”

“Tell me the address, I’ll meet you there and help you pick out something suitable.” Jesse could hear movement from the other end of the line like Genji was ready to spring into action right that moment.

Jesse’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. He was suddenly very glad he’d taken refuge in some customer’s beat up old Toyota.

“I’ve got work,” he said lamely.

There was a beat of silence through the phone.

“My apologies,” Genji said formally. “I didn’t think you would have called me if you were otherwise engaged with someone…”

Jesse barked out a laugh. “I’ve got a day job, ya know.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Genji said quickly. “When would be a good time to meet then?”

After another minute of talking, they agreed on the store and to meet there during Jesse’s lunch break. Jesse stumbled out of the Toyota and back to the now-cooled hard-light engine in a daze, trying to figure out if he was incredibly lucky or just an idiot.

 

* * *

 

 

Genji was already chatting with a salesperson by the time Jesse shouldered open the double glass doors. He’d grabbed an old flannel shirt from the back to cover up the black polo with the Turret Mechanics logo embroidered on the breast, but he still smelled like oil and sweat. He felt terribly out of place in the placid, cool space of the department store.

“Joel,” Genji called out and beckoned him over.

Jesse trotted over. He hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at him last time, but he recognized the family resemblance between him and Hanzo. They both had the same dark hair and strong eyebrows. Genji was clean-shaven and his face seemed more angular, although that might have been just because of the lack of beard. What was most striking, however, was the long silvery scar running down the side of his face from his left eyebrow down almost to his jawline. There was another smaller scar across the bridge of his nose, but it wasn’t nearly as prominent.

“So glad you’re here. This is Rosa,” Genji said quickly to a saleswoman.

A short, plump Hispanic woman pulled a tape measure from thin air and started taking Jesse’s measurements, talking all the while.

“For a summer wedding, a linen suit might be best. We had this beautiful Ralf Lauren one in blue last month, we might still have a few on the sale rack. It would look perfect… maybe with some brown shoes and a yellow pocket square?”

Jesse tried to cling to the few words he caught. Sale rack sounded promising and brown shoes were the only kind of shoes he had, so he nodded and let the other two hustle him toward a rack full of suits.

“What about a tone-on-tone look for him?” Genji asked, holding a blue jacket with a subtle check pattern in front of Jesse and eyeing him critically. “It might bring out his eyes,” he added to the sales clerk.

“Oh, yes, that would look nice. It might be a little too much for a wedding though,” she pointed out, holding up another jacket to Jesse’s chest before shaking her head and putting it back on the rack.

The two had him try on a few different jackets and decided that he needed longer sleeves although Jesse could barely tell the difference. Eventually, they agreed on a pair of pants and matching jacket for long enough to send him into a dressing room to try it on. He shucked off his pants and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d brought his hat so at least he’d have something familiar.

He stepped out of the dressing room in his socks, curling his toes under his feet so they wouldn’t notice the holes. They had him spin around and tugged on the jacket in a few spots before sending him back to the dressing room with another suit. They promptly decided that the first one was better and Jesse had to change back. When he came out, this time with his boots back on, they dragged him over to the shirts, holding up different colors and styles. They eventually settled on a yellow shirt and pocket square with a dark blue tie. Jesse tried to subtly check the price tags while they were busy.

Once they were satisfied, Jesse changed back into his own clothes and tried not to have a panic attack as the clothes were wrung up. He tried to calm himself down by thinking of it as less than two hours of time this weekend. But it was hard not to compare it to more than three months worth of his electric bill.

Then, apparently, he needed shoes too. Genji seemed to be in his element, happily trotting between departments with a garment bag over one shoulder and a paper bag swinging in the other hand. He handed them off to Jesse with a flourish in the shoe department before picking a few shoes up and handing them over to a new, very excited clerk.

It was no surprise. If Jesse were working here, he’d be excited to see the younger Shimada brother too. Genji practically dripped money. He looked like the type who could have dropped four times the money on a suit without so much as blinking. Jesse was almost afraid to look at the price tags on the shoes he was picking up.  He wondered vaguely if he should have tried to negotiate for even more money.

They went through a similar process with the shoes, although this time Genji asked a lot more about how comfortable McCree felt. And this time, Jesse put his foot down on the price.

“I ain’t spendin’ three hundred dollars on a pair of shoes,” he hissed at Genji as the salesman left to put a few boxes away.

“They’re on sale for two hundred,” Genji pointed out, unfazed. 

Jesse barked out a laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Genji raised one eyebrow implying that he was definitely not kidding him.

“Look, I get that it might not matter to you, but that’s a lot of money to me and—“

“And I am paying for it, so what’s the difference?” Genji shot back flippantly.

Jesse ran a hand down his face in frustration. “It’s comin’ outta my paycheck, so yeah it kinda makes a difference to me. Plus, I don’t think they let you return shoes after you wear ‘em.”

Genji blinked at him in surprise.

“I am not going to ask you to pay for a suit I picked out, which you have to buy for my wedding,” he said slowly.

“But we already agreed on a price,” Jesse argued, his brow creasing. He was certain that Genji just wasn’t understanding the problem.

“And that price didn’t include a stipend for attire,” Genji said matter-of-factly. “Ooh, what about these?” he exclaimed, reaching over and pulling a brown pair of cowboy boots off a nearby shelf.

They were beautiful. They had a darker ombre at the toe and heel with carefully stamped tops. They were exactly what Jesse would pick out for himself, provided he had the money to burn. Jesse tried to turn his longing look into a glare. He may be a prostitute but that didn’t mean that he could be bought—especially with shoes.

Genji just ignored him and asked the clerk to get a pair of the boots in Jesse’s size to try on.

“What do you get out of this, anyway?” he asked finally in exasperation. 

Genji just quirked an eyebrow. “I already said—“

“Yeah, I know you said you want your brother to be happy, but how does that extend to a shopping trip?”

Jesse knew that he ought to just shut his mouth, but he’d learned over the years that it was better to be sure of somebody’s intention and broke than beholden to someone else’s money.

“I’m not letting you show up to my wedding in jeans,” Genji answered with a sly smirk. “And Hanzo would be embarrassed if his boyfriend wasn’t properly dressed.”

There was a playfulness in Genji’s eyes and smile that Jesse hadn’t expected from someone whose shoes looked like they’d been made in Italy. 

“I appreciate your cooperation in this, Joel,” Genji continued more seriously, “especially since you think it’s a bad idea. I’m not going to ask you to invest anything more than your time in this. Even if it turns out to be a fool’s errand, I am not going to hold you responsible. My brother can be difficult, but he—“ Genji broke off as the clerk came back with the boots in Jesse’s size.

They fit like a glove, even with the usual stiffness of new leather, and were substantially more comfortable than the other dress shoes. Still, it had been foolish to even try them on. The whole point was to blend in at a fancy wedding. Not the place for cowboy boots.

To his surprise, Genji just had him try on the suit pants again to make sure they still fell right over his shins. Genji seemed to find them suitable. With the tops covered they did look rather like dress shoes, nicely ombred and a warm brown and, at $150, they were cheaper too. Plus, Jesse would actually be able to wear them again.

And that’s how Jesse McCree, mechanic and part-time hooker ended up walking back to Turret Mechanics with clothes that cost more than he made in a week—at least at that job.

“What are these fancy clothes for?” Zarya asked jovially as Jesse stepped back into the shop and carefully hung the bag up in the back office. 

“I, uh,” Jesse floundered and smoothed a hand over the shoebox carefully placed in a white paper Macy’s bag. “I guess I’m goin’ to a wedding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. I'm really excited about where this fic is going and I hope you guys are too! Next chapter is the wedding! *shimmies*
> 
> If you have a moment to leave a comment, it would really mean a lot to me. As silly as it sounds, your comments really motivate me to keep writing and help me believe that other people actually read this silly stuff I write. 
> 
> Thanks!


	3. (Please have) Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding time!!!
> 
> Also, Hanzo has a very unhealthy relationship with his thoughts.
> 
> If you struggle with self-hatred/loathing, please look at the endnotes and make sure this chapter is for you.

It was the perfect day for a wedding. 

The June day was warm, but not too hot with puffy white clouds floating across a perfectly blue sky. The venue was beautiful too, decked out in pale yellows and greens with a white arch set up atop a cliff overlooking the water.

Genji and Angela had decided to break with tradition in one key way, however—the photographs. Traditionally, in a western wedding, the groom wasn’t permitted to see the bride before the ceremony. But Angela had deemed this ridiculous and so the whole wedding party was together, taking the photographs before the guests arrived. Genji looked dashing in his tuxedo, subtly piped with green. He was smiling ear to ear and could barely stop brushing his hands along his wife-to-be’s fingers and waist. 

Angela also looked resplendent. She had chosen a simple silhouette for her wedding dress, but it had been subtly altered so that it started a pure white at her shoulders and became slowly more golden as it fell down to the hem. Her bouquet, too, was mostly white hydrangea with yellow roses and wispy greens. Everything was made to look effortlessly simple despite the time, money and planning Hanzo knew had gone into every detail. It was more Angela’s style than Genji’s (which could sometimes border on garish) but both brothers had agreed that was generally for the best. 

The reception would be held downstairs under a large canopy set up on the beach. Everything looked beautiful, a picture-perfect wedding in every way. Hanzo just wished he could shake the horrible feeling that everything was about to go wrong. Luckily, he just had to look stoically proud throughout the photographs, then break off with the rest of the wedding party while the bride and groom took a few photos together. 

Since Angela’s parents were both long deceased and she had no siblings, she had elected to walk down the aisle by herself. They had briefly discussed having Sojiro Shimada do the honor, but his recent ill health had prevented him from even traveling out of Japan for the wedding, let alone walking his soon-to-be daughter-in-law down the aisle. Hanzo tried very hard not to be relieved by this fact. 

The elders on the Shimada Company board of directors had not liked the idea of a foreigner marrying into the family. It went far enough that Hanzo had been forced to travel to Japan and campaign on Genji’s behalf. Sojiro had been willing to make an exception for his favorite son, but the other members of the board were less willing to bend on this matter. In the end, they hadn’t exactly given their blessings to the union (not that the bride or groom much cared) but they hadn’t tried to sabotage the wedding either—at least not yet. 

Hanzo had very respectfully pointed out that his own children would be the ones to inherit the responsibilities as head of the Shimada Company and Clan. His future nieces and nephews would not need to be involved in clan business. If Genji and Angela decided to have half-Japanese, half-Swiss children, both parents would want to distance them from the Clan anyway. So problem solved. The elders did not need to know that the thought of settling down with an acceptable Japanese wife was Hanzo’s own personal idea of hell. 

He would do it of course. Eventually. Hanzo knew it was only a matter of a few years before he would have to marry someone of the family’s choosing. It would better protect Genji and his potential children, not to mention fulfill his duty as his father’s son, current CEO of Shimada Industries and future head of the clan. 

Hanzo had managed to put all of this out of his mind for the majority of the week. Instead, he had immersed himself in the wedding preparations. He’d taken Genji out for drinks and dinner at his favorite restaurant. Angela had requested his presence at her final dress fitting. He’d felt slightly out of place drinking champagne on an overstuffed couch with all her friends. Still, he’d managed to enjoy himself, oohing and ahhing over the wedding and reception dresses with the rest of them. He even managed to sneak in a slight alteration to the hem of one dress that might have otherwise tripped her during the first dance. 

Genji had taken Hanzo along for the suit fitting as well, although the younger brother was perfectly capable of it on his own. That had been a very different experience—just the two brothers standing in the tailor’s shop, carefully checking the piping of the suit and the way it fell. Hanzo had stood a little behind Genji, brushing a piece of lint off the shoulder of his suit before looking up and meeting his brother’s eyes in the mirror. He looked more like Sojiro then than ever before. The same determined eyes and hard-set mouth, but there was a kindness there too that their father had never directed toward the Hanzo. And of course the scars made Genji look different too. Even on his face, they were prominent and impossible to ignore. Genji had moved on somehow, had even found the fortitude to forgive Hanzo, although Hanzo knew he would never forgive himself. 

Genji deserved this. Genji deserved every happiness in life. And if Hanzo could help him get it, then he would—even if that meant spending the rest of his life with a woman chosen by others. 

“I am so proud of you,” Hanzo had said softly, in the stillness of the tailors. “Of the man you have become. Of the husband you will be.”

Genji’s eyes had widened, then gotten a little shiny, before he’d turned and clutched Hanzo in a bone-crushing hug. He’d ended up patting his more emotional little brother awkwardly on the back until Genji pulled away with a self-deprecating little laugh. It had felt oddly like it had been back in their childhood—like they had been before the worst night of Hanzo’s life. 

They had planned to go to lunch afterwards, but Genji had suddenly made other plans. Hanzo tried not to be disappointed, but the next day had made up for it when Angela had dragged both brothers out on their lunch break to make the final checks on the floral plans.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Hanzo had the memory of strong, warm arms wrapped around his shoulders to help him fall into bed every night. Hanzo wasn’t exactly fantasizing about the prostitute his brother had hired. There were never explicit elements to his dreams. He simply basked in the memory of what had happened. A man—a kind, thoughtful man—had held him until he fell asleep. Had listened when he explained his limits and respected how far Hanzo was willing to go. Of course he had been paid to do exactly that, Hanzo reminded himself sternly (and repeatedly). But the memory still felt warm and inviting, like a cup of tea he could sip whenever he wished. 

Some part of him knew it was ridiculous to hold so tightly to a memory of intimacy that was paid for and did not even include sex. But he couldn’t quite bare to put it out of his mind either. It felt like a moment taken out of someone else’s life. Someone who could afford to fall in love with another man. Someone who didn’t need to be strong all the time. Someone who could spend more nights like that, safely held in Joel’s arms. 

It was a ridiculous thought. But a nice one, nonetheless. 

Still, on the actual day of the wedding, Hanzo wished he could shake his feeling of foreboding. It didn’t help that Genji kept glancing toward the exits and checking his phone. It made Hanzo more jumpy than he already was. The last thing they needed was some sort of well-meaning surprise. Oh god, had Genji flown Sojiro in despite his illness? That would be just like him and Sojiro would undoubtedly do it, despite the health hazards, to please his youngest son. 

But the photographs wrapped up without incident. The couple was just exchanging a quiet word together when Hanzo found the out-of-place thing his brain had been subconsciously searching for all this time. 

Someone was standing in the doorway leading to the hotel lobby. Hanzo could see everyone who had been photographed with the wedding party and the blue suit ruled out the hotel staff. The guests weren’t due to arrive for another 45 minutes and even if someone was rudely so early, they would have been directed to the lobby or their rooms, not to the veranda where the photographs were being taken. 

Silent in his dress shoes, Hanzo snuck around a large potted palm before he recognized the stranger and stopped short. 

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo hissed.

Joel’s eyebrows rose as he turned his attention toward the other man. 

“Ah, well I take it Genji didn’t tell you then…” he said almost bashfully. He ran a hand through his hair where his hat had been before. 

“Tell me what?” Hanzo said, although his sharp tone was tempered by distraction. 

If Joel had been tempting before in his beat-up jeans and flannel, he was absolutely devastating now. The suit had not been tailored for him, that much was obvious, but it fit well. The blue jacket fell perfectly against the heavy lines of his shoulders and his pants were freshly pressed. He’d obviously put some effort into his grooming as well. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair still looked a little damp, as though he’d washed it recently. It curled slightly in the afternoon heat, begging Hanzo to run his hands through it. 

“Yer brother, er… invited me to the weddin’,” Joel explained. His accent seemed thicker all of the sudden and he shifted from foot to foot, running his hand through his hair again. It was all very distracting. 

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Genji chose that moment to bound into the conversation. 

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Genji beamed at Joel, shook his hand and clapped him on the back as if they were old friends. 

“Yeah, well I cleared my busy schedule,” Joel said dryly, creases forming around his eyes. 

Genji laughed heartily before turning to Hanzo.

“So, what do you think?”

Hanzo just blinked at his brother. He also tried to console himself that this conversation wouldn’t make sense even if he weren’t distracted by the way Jesse’s collar was falling against his neck. 

“What do I think of what?”

Genji just smiled and jerked his head toward Joel. “Of your date.”

Hanzo blinked, looking in confusion between his brother and Joel before realization dawned. 

“What did you do?” 

Years of experience with Genji meant that Hanzo already had a pretty good idea of what the younger man had done. The question was really how far had it gone and how absurd was the clean up going to have to be. 

Genji glanced around and ushered the other two over to the corner of the veranda. Luckily, most of the wedding party had already cleared out and all the remained was Angela chatting quietly with the photographer in the opposite corner. 

“I asked Joel to come to the wedding…” Genji began in a hushed tone, “…as your date.”

“Asked?” Hanzo bit out. He studiously glared only at his brother, partially because it was his stupid plan, but partially because he was worried that if he looked at Joel he would get hopelessly distracted again. 

“Hired,” Joel clarified.

Genji ignored Hanzo’s beleaguered sigh. “It’ll be the perfect opportunity, Anija. You can come out to everyone, but the focus won’t be totally on you because of the wedding.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Hanzo began but he wasn’t able to get any farther. 

“Now wait a fuckin’ second,” Joel interrupted, causing both brothers to look at him in surprise. “You didn’t say anything about him not bein’ out.”

It looked as if a storm cloud had rolled in and Joel was the center of it. 

“I ain’t about to force anybody to come out if’n they ain’t ready,” Joel said firmly. Hanzo felt something compact in his chest. “You led me to think he was just shy about bringin’ a partner ‘round.”

Genji blinked in surprise, although Hanzo wasn’t sure if it was at Joel’s intensity or at the gaul of him to be so forward to his employer. 

Hanzo found himself looking at the tension in Joel’s jaw and neck a little too long. What was wrong with him? He saw handsome men in suits every day. They never distracted him, at least not like this. Then again, none of those men had ever run their hands over his shoulders and soothed him into sleep in the wee hours of the morning. 

Hanzo shook his head quickly and put his hand between the two men. 

“The majority of the guests today are Americans,” Hanzo pointed out. “I doubt any of them would be openly hostile if I were to arrive with a male date. Or even particularly surprised.”

Genji was beaming, but Hanzo wasn’t finished. 

“But it is not their reaction that worries me.” That was a bold-faced lie on Hanzo’s part, the idea of everyone knowing his romantic preferences terrified him, but nowhere near as much as the board’s response. 

“Do you really want your wedding overshadowed by the reaction back home?” Hanzo asked Genji pointedly. 

“Who cares what a bunch of stuffy old men in Japan think!” Genji exclaimed. Hanzo just winced and pointedly looked anywhere but his younger brother’s scars. 

“Do you want to be CEO?” Hanzo asked quietly. He felt hollowed out, incapable of fighting his little brother’s dangerous whims. He wished he could float through life as Genji did. Doing only the things that pleased him. But where those thoughts had once stoked hot anger in his chest, now they left only cold behind. If Hanzo thought for one moment that Genji wanted his job, wanted to head a multi-million dollar company, he would give over the position. He would leave and do his penance on some remote mountain in Japan. But his best penance was here, protecting Genji from the weight of the world—from the board, from the company, from the responsibilities of being a Shimada heir. 

Genji just looked confused. 

“They wouldn’t throw you out just for being gay,” Genji said quietly, although the sentence tilted up at the end as if it were halfway to becoming a question. 

Hanzo sighed. Genji had always been one to see the good in people. He still barely acknowledged the knife-sharp edges of their father, instead mostly seeing the doting parent he had known as a child. Hanzo was always the one who dealt with reality. Even now.

“I want your wedding to be perfect,” Hanzo said gently, laying one hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I promise you I will find a way to tell the family, but this is not the way.”

Hanzo had tried to be as gentle as he could be, even promising to an impossible task, but Genji’s face still crumpled. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Genji said softly in their mother tongue. “I’ve found the love of my life. I want you to be free to find yours.”

“I am happy that you are happy,” Hanzo answered just as quietly.

He meant every word, but Genji’s face just fell further. He opened his mouth to say something else, but they were interrupted by Angela’s light voice.

“Jesse?”

In a moment, Joel stopped looking like a thundercloud as his eyes went wide and his mouth slack. 

“Doctor Z?”

“Jesse!” Angela said again, hustling over excitedly. “I didn’t even know you were coming!”

She took his hands and beamed at him, practically glowing in her bridal gown. 

“I didn’t know this was your weddin’,” Joel—or Jesse apparently—said flatly. He looked as blank as a disk, like the world was ending around him and he simply didn’t know how to react. 

“I wish you had told me!” she scolded gently, “We could have had Hazel be one of the flower girls.”

Jesse’s mouth snapped shut. “I should go,” he said abruptly.

“Don’t be silly,” Angela said sternly.

“No. The last thing you wanna be thinking about on your wedding day is work,” Jesse insisted. “I honestly didn’t know…” he shook his head. “I never asked who you were marryin’.”

Hanzo blinked at the cowboy for a moment, suffering from the emotional whiplash of trying to console his brother to Angela’s pre-wedding excitement to realizing what was happening. It felt like a splash of cold water, waking him up from his emotional stupor. He had only been thinking of himself. He hadn’t even stopped to consider Joel’s reasons for being here. Genji had given him money to show up, that’s what you did with a prostitute. But this wasn’t showing up for a sexual encounter. This was a wedding. And why was Joel renting out his body anyway?

Angela’s words cast a whole new light on the situation. Angela was a doctor. A good one. She had been just completing her residency when she and Genji met, but she had gone on to become one of the leading doctors in her field, even creating a groundbreaking new treatment for that field, one that was currently in clinical trials and which was important enough that the couple was only taking five days for their honeymoon.

Hanzo didn’t know much about the specifics of Angela’s work, but he knew that she worked in oncology and that her cancer research was saving lives. Currently, the treatment was only being tested on breast cancer patients who had not done well with traditional radiation and chemotherapy. They were mostly women, but he had heard the doctor mention two men in the program. Jesse didn’t exactly look like a cancer patient, but all that meant was that Angela was very good at her job. Furthermore, it explained why Jesse would be so desperate for money as to sell his own body repeatedly. If it was a matter of life and death, who wouldn’t? Experimental treatments couldn’t be cheap and who knew if health insurance would cover such a risk. And if Jesse was financing his treatment through prostitution, Angela either didn’t know or was a very good actress. 

“Nonsense,” she said with a laugh. “You must stay. Is Mattie here somewhere?”

“Nah,” Jesse said. He sounded a little breathless. “I’m just here with… I’m just here.”

“He’s with me.” Hanzo almost didn’t recognize his own voice.

Anglea looked surprised for a moment and Hanzo regretted every life choice that had led him to this point. Then her face split into a wide grin. 

“That’s vunderful!” she exclaimed, her accent a little thicker in her excitement. “Genji told me you were bringing a date, but I didn’t know it was you, Jesse!”

Hanzo felt his face heating up.

“Yeah well, you’re fiance invited me,” Jesse explained to Anglea, “I didn’t realize ‘til I got here that Hanzo didn’t know I was comin’...”

And just like that, Jesse had offered Hanzo an out. He could tell them all right now that he wasn’t comfortable with this. Jesse would go away. They could find a way to pay him and no one beyond this circle would ever know. The elders would not hear a word. Everything could go on exactly as he had planned. He would be back on track. 

Back on track to live his life without someone he cared for romantically. Live his life without the warm solid presence of another man beside him. 

Hanzo was usually better at ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He stood there frozen on the veranda as he wrestled with the bone-deep certainty that this was a moment that would have far-reaching consequences no matter what he chose. He could choose the safe option and sit alone tonight at the reception dinner and drink himself into a stupor. Or… or he could do something reckless. He could experiment tonight. In a way, this might be an ideal opportunity. He could reveal to a small group of people that he had a male partner, and if they reacted badly then it didn’t matter. Jesse would never be in his life again. They could forget the night ever existed. If the clan ordered him to stay away from Jesse, it would not be a hardship and his heart would not be broken. But he could try… He could try to be the person he barely dreamed he could be. 

It was a folly to even consider it. Hanzo knew that people would look at him differently if his sexuality was known. They might not be rude but they would be ever so slightly more distant. They might subtly start to break away from the company and from private engagement with the Shimada family. There was no situation where things worked out well for Hanzo. But oh, he was tempted. 

Hanzo was tempted by soft brown eyes and wide calloused hands. He was tempted by the worry in Jesse’s eyes and the nervous gestures he wore like a jacket. He was tempted by the idea of not hiding this part of himself. Not holding on so tightly to this part of his nature. He was tempted by the idea that he might relax for one night, despite the hell it would bring afterwards. 

“I don’t want to overshadow your wedding day,” Hanzo said quietly, sounding less resolute than he wanted to be. 

 

“It would be lovely to have you both,” Angela said earnestly. She was still holding Jesse’s hands, although her bright eyes were focused solely on Hanzo.

His mind and his heart were at war. But one glance over at his brother’s hopeful face and there was only one choice he could reasonably make. 

“Well, as long as we’re not a distraction…” he began. But he was cut off by his brother’s over-enthusiastic hug. Anglea was beaming at him and, more distractingly, so was Jesse. 

Oh… he was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to include the entire wedding, but this got so long I just wanted to post what I have for you guys. The next chapter will have the rest of the wedding in it I think. More will be explained then. I really planned on getting to Hazel and Mattie this time, but this is already like 4,000 words and the next half is at least this long again. Please remember that this is a multiple POV story and everybody's got a limited understanding of the situation.
> 
> I hope you guys are still enjoying the story, comments are always much appreciated and help me stay motivated to keep writing :)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> About Hanzo's self-loathing: He expresses a bunch of thoughts in this chapter that basically amount to the idea that Genji/The Company/The Family is worth more than him and he is just going to have to live an unhappy life to help everyone else. If this is going to be unhealthy reading for you, just skip it. 
> 
> If you're skipping to the next chapter, here's a chapter summary: Hanzo wants the wedding to go super well and thinks about all the work he's put in over the past months. He had to go to Japan because the board of directions (aka the clan elders) didn't like that Genji was marrying a foreigner. He also thinks he'll have to marry a Japanese woman to keep them happy. Genji and Hanzo have a touching moment that results in the events of the last chapter. Jesse shows up at the wedding and Hanzo is shook. Anglea recognizes Jesse (not explained how yet) and Hanzo realizes that he can't just kick Jesse out, so he gets some kissy kissy time with Jesse as his date to the wedding...


	4. Take it Easy on My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wedding, Part II - Hanzo's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it has been so long since an update. Working on my original stories, but I came back around for his fic! I'm still working on it I promise!

Hanzo stood tall and proud by Genji’s side as the music rose and everyone turned to look as Angela began her walk down the aisle. Hanzo watched his brother’s eyes widen and light up as he saw her, but Hanzo’s own gaze drifted slightly to the left of the bride, to look at broad shoulders and a light grey suit jacket. 

Jesse’s honey brown eyes were creased at the corners, smiling even though his mouth hadn’t moved that much. Hanzo almost shivered at the remembered scent of slight musk, either from Jesse’s colone or his deodorant. The way that Jesse’s hand had felt remarkably warm in Hanzo’s. His fingers were calloused and gentle, even as the cowboy tugged him into a private corner just two hours ago.

“You sure, you’re okay with this?” He had asked.

Hanzo had nodded slowly, still a little distracted by the way Jesse’s fingers were intertwined with his own. It felt familiar, as if they’d done this dozens of times before. Like this was a real relationship rather than a fake one. 

“I am--” Hanzo shook his head and corrected himself. “This will be fine.”

Jesse’s lips tightened slightly but he didn’t argue.

“So how do you wanna play this?” he asked instead.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you comfortable holding hands in front a’ everyone?”

Hanzo blanched slightly. Holding hands with Jesse was wonderful, but the idea of doing so while everyone was watching…

“Yes, that– that is acceptable,” Hanzo said, surprising himself. Jesse just nodded.

“What about kissin’? Do you want to be a real handsy couple or just act like friends unless someone asks? People’ll want to know how we met and such too.”

Hanzo swallowed. Of course Jesse was right. The other guests weren’t simply going to accept that Hanzo had a boyfriend out of nowhere. Humans are naturally curious and now that Jesse’s real identity had been revealed, neither one of them were likely to be comfortable with telling anyone the whole truth.

“I don’t know where we might have met,” he admitted slowly. 

“Do you have a car?” Jesse asked thoughtfully thankfully not releasing Hanzo’s hand even though it was starting to get sweaty. 

“Yes,” Hanzo answered, unsure where this line of questioning was headed. 

“Hard light engine?”

“Yes,” Hanzo repeated, not bothering to keep the confusion off his face. 

“That’s good. That’ll work.”

“What will work?” Hanzo asked.

“I’m a mechanic,” Jesse explained, “Ya know, the rest of the time. We can say your car broke down near the shop I work at and I asked you out before I realized you were a customer.”

“Ah,” Hanzo said, trying to reconcile all of this new information with the easy smiles of the sex worker he had met last week. 

“And you are a patient of Anglea’s” he asked, just to clarify. 

Jesse’s eyebrows popped up in surprise, before his expression gave way to a more sober expression. 

“No. No, it’s my sister,” Jesse cleared his throat and looked away from Hanzo for the first time since they’d been alone. Hanzo hadn’t even thought about it until he looked away. “My little sister’s the one who’s a patient of Dr. Z.”

“Ah.” Hanzo said, feeling rather stupid. “Hazel.”

Jesse smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. 

“No. My sister’s name is Mattie. Hazel’s her daughter, my niece.”

Hanzo had just nodded, absorbing this new information and trying not to watch as Jesse’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously. 

“I didn’t mean to assume…”

“It’s fine,” Jesse said gruffly before clearing his throat. “Can’t be helped.”

Still, as Angela and Genji joined hands, it was hard for Hanzo not to draw a comparison between himself and Jesse… and to find himself lacking. They both had younger siblings, but where Jesse was sacrificing his bodily autonomy for his sister, Hanzo had done his best to carve the life out of his brother. And yet here they stood. Hanzo was rich, successful and standing beside his brother on the happiest day of his life. And Jesse was here too. Broke, desperate for money and looking like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

Hanzo felt like he might be sick. 

But he wasn’t. He held himself stoically as Genji’s master, Zenyatta, led the ceremony. He gently handed the rings off at the proper time and kept a stiff spine as Genji cried through his vows. Hanzo kept his emotions in check as the wedding party made its way down to the reception. 

At some point Angela whisked herself away to change dresses before the dinner and everyone slowly found their seats. Angela made her reappearance, this time in a shorter, lacier gown with the same golden effect. Hanzo found his seat next to his brother at the head table. A little place card marked his name out in the English alphabet and japanese characters. The place on his other side was marked for Jesse McCree. A bastardization of japaneese characters attempted to spell out that name as well, if not as elegantly. Well, at least he knew Jesse’s last name now. 

Before he could even look around, the man in question was there at his elbow, carefully pulling out the rented chair so Hanzo could sit down. It was surprisingly charming. Chivalrous and old-fashioned in a ridiculous American way. Hanzo stayed standing until Genji and Angela had both taken their seats and started whispering happily into each other’s ears. 

When Hanzo did deign to sit down, Jesse was still there, pushing in the chair behind him so he was snuggly fitted against the table. 

“Did you take a class for that?” Hanzo asked wryly as the other man smoothly seated himself.

“Nah,” Jesse replied, a sly little grin crinkling the skin around his eyes again. “Just want to make sure I treat a beautiful man right.”

He said it so earnestly. As if Hanzo’s appearance had anything to do with the matter at hand. Hanzo turned his head abruptly to look over the crowd, and hopefully to hide the blush he felt rising to this cheeks. 

Luckily, Anglea’s cousin, and maid of honor, took that moment to stand and tap her knife against her champagne glass

“Alright everyone,” she announced, bringing the chatter in the room down to relative quiet. “We won’t bore you with speeches until after the food arrives, but I just wanted to say first, Angela, Genji, we are all so, so happy for your both. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect bride or a groom that compliments her so completely. We’re all here to celebrate you two. So dig in everyone. The first course is coming out now, but if you want to say a few words, we’ll be passing around a mic for speeches after the main course– after everyone up here has gotten to say their peace first of course!”

The assembled party goers laughed at the trite joke, but promptly forgot all about it as soon as salads were placed in front of them. Jesse, for all that he had been trying to pay attention, had quite obviously had one eye on the servers since they entered the tent.

But even when the plate was placed in front of him, Jesse kept glancing over, watching which fork Hanzo used, only taking a bite when he did first. Hanzo wasn’t overly fond of the goat cheese and arugula salad, but he ate every bite, if only so that Jesse would as well. Hanzo remembered watching Jesse wolf down the burger last time they had met and didn’t want Jesse not to eat his fill simply because he wanted to be polite.

As a result, by the time the main courses were cleared, Hanzo was beginning to feel uncomfortably full. He managed to give his prepared speech without stumbling or appearing like too much of a callus asshole. But maybe he overdid it as Genji leaped out of his chair at the end of the speech to hug him and wipe his face on Hanzo’s shoulder. Genji had always been the more emotive of the two brothers, but Hanzo was extremely thankful once again that their father was not here to see his shameful display of emotion. 

Jesse was the perfect impression of a supportive boyfriend. The whole time Hanzo was giving his speech, Jesse looked up at him like he was the moon itself. If Hanzo didn’t know better, he would have called it naked adoration. 

Unfortunately, he did know better. Jesse was a good actor. Nothing more. No one would ever earnestly look at Hanzo like that. Not knowing what he had done. Not that Jesse knew. Nevertheless, Hanzo had to keep reminding himself that it was not real. Jesse was not interested in him. Not his actual boyfriend. Not even his lover. The way Jesse leaned over and playfully stole a bite of Hanzo’s cake was all part of the act. One he was being well-paid to perform. 

Still, when Jesse tugged him onto the dance floor after the first carefully choreographed dance between Genji and Angela, Hanzo couldn’t help but think that whatever Genji was paying Jesse, it wasn’t nearly enough. 

 

The sun had set hours ago and even the most devoted revelers were starting to slow down. Hanzo had found himself unconsciously counting the number of drinks Genji drank, even though the younger man hadn’t drank himself sick since he had returned from Nepal. Luckily no one seemed to notice. No one, that is, except Jesse. 

He noticed the tension rolling off of Hanzo and gently led him toward the beach. He rubbed gently between Hanzo’s shoulder blades, breathing deeply in a wordless encouragement for the shorter man to follow suit. Jesse had shed his suit jacket sometime during the night and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, baring the metal forearm and mismatched skin one. 

“How ‘r’ya holdin’ up?”

Hanzo huffed out an unconvincing laugh.

“It is not my wedding,” He pointed out.

“Nah, but it can be hard, watchin’ your younger sibling gettin’ married,” Jesse said gently. 

Hanzo just shook his head. “I am just glad everything went according to plan.”

“Y’er allowed to be bummed out ya know,” Jesse said softly. “Not everythin’ about a wedding is happy.”

Hanzo looked down at his wingtips, making odd patterns in the sand. “I am glad they can have their dream wedding and that I am lucky enough to be invited.”

Jesse didn’t press for more, but his silence made it clear he knew that this wasn’t the whole truth. 

“I will never have a wedding like this,” Hanzo admitted softly after a long pause where the only sound was the noise of the party behind them and the gentle shush of the waves. 

“Would you want that?” Jesse asked earnestly.

“No,” Hanzo answered without hesitation. “But I’d like– I would like to stand at the altar with someone I love like that.” 

“Why can’t ya?” Jesse asked.

It was an innocent enough question. But it reminded him of all that Jesse didn’t know. He didn’t know what kind of monster he stood beside. He didn’t know about the blood on Hanzo’s hands. Not just Genji’s. So many others. Jesse didn’t know about the family in Japan, about the uproar that had occured simply by the second son announcing his intention to marry a foreigner. Jesse didn’t know how much worse it would be if Hanzo, the first son, announced his desire to marry a man. Hanzo couldn’t even imagine the tumult it would cause. He didn’t want to. It was not something he could do to the family, to his father, to his brother. It would be too selfish a thing to ask for. Far too selfish, even for a monster like him. 

Hanzo already dreaded the conversation he would be forced to have after bringing a male date to his brother’s wedding. He had already sent a text message to his assistant, asking her to arrange a flight to Japan on Monday. Hanzo was not so deluded to think that the elders would be quick to forgive this kind of indiscretion. 

But Jesse didn’t drop the topic. Instead he stepped closer until their shoulders brushed and asked again, “Why not?”

Hanzo had to tilt his head up and to the side to look Jesse in the eyes. They were cast into shadow by the light from the party behind them and Hanzo couldn’t see the honey shade of brown, but he could feel the intensity of the gaze even so. 

“I am the oldest son,” Hanzo settled on after a pause. “The family would never permit it.”

Jesse pressed his lips together, almost as if trying to physically bite back a response to that answer. Instead, after a moment, Jesse dipped his head down, firmly pressing his lips against Hanzo’s.

It was a chaste kiss, all things considered. Jesse’s mouth barely opened at all. Just the barest hint of wet against Hanzo’s lower lip and a rasp of beard for no more than a few seconds. But Hanzo felt the tension leave him as easily as a breath. All the fears, all the worries of the day evaporating in that simple brush of lips. He wanted to chase the warmth of Jesse’s mouth. Wanted to get lost in the softness of it all. In the tenderness of the gesture. But he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed and watched as Jesse pulled away and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. Then they turned around and returned to the party. 

But even as they wished Genji and Angela a good night, Hanzo still felt the slight buzz of adrenaline and remembered the soft brush of Jesse’s lips. The party wound itself out and even the most aggressive revelers took themselves to their rooms (or at least the hotel bar) for the night and Hanzo led the way back to his hotel room, but the feeling of champagne in his veins persisted. It was enough to make him just a little bold. Enough to allow himself to brush the backs of his fingers against Jesse’s and to allow their shoulders to touch as they climbed into the elevator together. It was enough to let himself have this closeness. To bask in the warmth that radiated from Jesse. To let Hanzo be a little bit selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this chapter. There are so many more things and details I wanted to add but just couldn't fit it. Like how Jesse dances and what Zenyatta's wearing. Idk. Happy to answer questions if anyone's got them. I just really need to move this story along so we can get to the meat of it!
> 
> As always, I treasure all of your comments. If you can leave one, it really means the world to me and encourages me to keep writing. Hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter! Next time - Jesse's POV and we finally meet Hazel and Mattie!


	5. Chapter Five – You Keep Tearing Me Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's POV - Wedding Night

Jesse followed Hanzo’s lead, not leaving the party until the bride and groom had finally left for the night, sometime around 1am. He followed Hanzo into the hotel elevator, silently leaning against the wall as they rose up to the 12th floor of the extravagant hotel. The kiss he shouldn’t have initiated still burning on his lips. 

Hanzo looked like he just came out of a photoshoot. His dark hair falling out of its slick-gelled style and into a more natural, tousled took. His tie was loose and he’d undone the top few buttons of his dress shirt in addition to rolling the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of an intricate tattoo that he wouldn't have expected from Hazo. Jesse was supposed to be the one looking desirable here, but instead Hanzo was looking like he’d just stepped off of a GQ cover. 

Jesse mentaly shook himself. He needed to stay on task. They were going back to Hanzo’s hotel room, and if that earlier kiss was anything to go by, it wasn’t going to be quite so innocent this time. He’s brought condoms and lube, of course, carefully folded among his pajamas and toiletries in the free promotional reusable shopping bag he’d used as a suitcase and the bellboy had given him a very odd look over. 

Hanzo pulled his tie all the way off and started wrapping it slowly around his hand before putting it into his pocket. Jesse’s eyes followed the movement. In any other circumstance he would have expected that kind of slow, predatory movement to be a precursor of things to come, but Hanzo had been so skittish last time. Had learning more about him broken down that barrier? Jesse forced himself to breathe. None of this was going to get back to Mattie. He’d make sure of it. Hanzo wouldn’t want to keep pretending to date anyway and Dr. Z wouldn’t push it if he pretended to be broken up about losing Hanzo… would she?

Jesse forced his thoughts back into order as the elevator chimed and the doors opened onto Hanzo’s floor. A keycard was produced and Hanzo opened the door to a suite more lavish than the last. He sighed as the door swung shut behind them and started unrolling his shirt sleeves.

“Would you like to shower first or shall I?” Hanzo asked lightly, already hanging his suit jacket up on one of the hotel-provided wooden hangers. 

Jesse tried to stay loose, tried to seem like he wasn’t way out of his depth. 

“Either way, pumpkin. It doesn’t matter to me,” he answered.

Hanzo just glanced at him and nodded, pulling a pair of pajamas and a toiletries bag out of his open suitcase before heading to the bathroom without another word. 

Jesse heard the water turn on and felt some of the tension fall out of his shoulders. What was wrong with him? So what if Hanzo wanted to have sex? Jesse was literally being paid to do exactly that. Shit. Should Jesse have offered to join Hanzo in the shower? That was the kind of thing he would have done on a normal job. But this wasn’t a normal job. Hanzo knew who he was and Dr. Z knew they knew each other. Everything about this was fucked up. But so what? So what if Mattie found out that he was whoring himself out again? He had a damn good reason. She’d understand. Wouldn’t she?

Jesse ran a hand through his hair and shucked off his suit jacket. All that could wait. Right now there was a client in the room and if there was one thing Jesse knew it was how to make someone feel good in bed. 

He quickly stripped out of his shoes, socks, tie and shirt, carefully hanging them up before digging out his pajamas. It was just a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt from the goodwill, but it was what he normally wore to bed. And anyway, Jesse didn’t expect to be in them long after his shower. He selected a handful of condoms and a packet of lube and slipped them into the bedside drawer, in case they needed to be pulled out quickly later. 

What was surprising was the piece of hotel stationery folded on the top of his bag. Curiosity piqued, Jesse unfolded the note and read:

Hotel Safe: Last four digits of your phone number

Jesse blinked at the note a few times before walking over to the closet next to the bathroom from which splashing noises from Hanzo’s shower still emanated. Against the back wall was a safe embedded into the wall. Quickly, Jesse punched in the last four digits of the number that Genji would know and with a shrill beep, the door swung open. Inside was an envelope and another note. This one said:

Jesse--  
Thank you again for your help today. You cannot begin to know how much it means to me and how much you have helped our family. I know that things did not go completely according to plan today and for that, please accept my apologies. I hope to see you again one day.  
-G

Jesse blinked at the note in confusion before dismissing it and opening the envelope and counting the fifty dollar bills. Then counting them again. There was more money there than he and Genji had agreed on. A lot more. 

He counted again, this time carefully sorting the bills into stacks before gathering them up and folding them carefully into the toe of his boot. Jesse wasn’t sure he’d ever held three thousand dollars in cash before. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had much more than that in his bank account at one time. Even at his day job, he got paid every week and most of that money went to rent, utilities and food. Sure, most of this would go straight back to the hospital but some of it… 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the water shutting off. Jesse put his boot down but couldn’t pry his eyes away from it. Three thousand dollars. He didn’t feel like he deserved it. He hadn’t even really done anything to earn it. Well… not yet anyhow. 

Jesse looked down at his hairy chest and wondered if he out to have shaved or something. He’d never done it before but hell, for $3,000 he’d be willing to shave every hair on his body—eyebrows included. 

When Hanzo emerged from the steaming bathroom, however, he was dressed in what looked to be a blue silk pajama set and barely even looked at Jesse. Instead he was focused on towel-drying his hair. 

“It is all yours,” he said simply, gesturing toward the bathroom.

Jesse just nodded and ducked in without a word. He scrubbed every place he could think of, washing thoroughly with the hotel’s mini toiletries and stashing what remained into his shopping bag. He’d trimmed up his beard before he’d left this morning, but in the sterile white lights over the hotel sink, Jesse found himself wishing he’d brought scissors to touch it up some more. 

In the mirror, all Jesse could see were his flaws. The puckered scars that extended up from the prosthetic joint and the smattering of white lines elsewhere from other wounds over the years. The way his ribs stuck out more from bad nutrition than from being in shape. The old stick and poke tattoo on his thigh he’d gotten at fourteen when he’d thought he was hot shit. 

Jesse gave himself a quick shake and considered going out in just the small towel before pulling on his sweat pants and t-shirt. There was no point in highlighting the places where his body was less than perfect. If Hanzo wanted him naked, everything would come off again just as easily. 

But when he strode out of the bathroom, walking with more confidence than he felt, it was to find Hanzo sitting under the covers wearing reading glasses, staring intensely at what looked to be a biography of some wealthy asshole. 

Hanzo glanced up after a moment and closed his book, But all he said was, “I hope you do not mind the right side. I prefer to sleep farther from the window.”

“Uh, sure.”

As casually as he could manage, Jesse hung the suit pants up in the closet and padded over to the bed. As soon as he tucked himself under the covers, Hanzo placed a bookmark between the pages and turned off the bedside light. The room was plunged into darkness and Jesse turned on his side, waiting for Hanzo to reach out. But he didn’t. Hanzo plumped his pillow and closed his eyes. Jesse stayed still, staring at the faint outline of Hanzo’s profile for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to do. 

“So, we just sleepin’ then?” he tried to clarify.

He watched Hanzo’s chest rise and fall deliberately before he spoke. 

“Is that going to be a problem?”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed. What did he mean by that? Did Hanzo think that Jesse was going to force him into sex?

“Just tryin’ to get on the same page, sweetheart,” he said gently, shifting so he was on his back again, looking up at the rough white plaster. 

In the darkness, Hanzo let out a soft hum. 

“Did Genji pay you already?” Hanzo asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“Yeah.”

“How much?”

Jesse stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Hanzo the truth. Would he think Genji had overpaid him? Would he try and take some of it back? Would he try and give Jesse a tip? For what? Sleeping? Not insisting on sex?

“More than we agreed to,” Jesse settled on saying eventually. 

“Good.”

The answer was surprising enough that Jesse looked over again, trying to glean some sort of expression from the shape of Hanzo’s profile.

“What’d’ya mean by that?” Jesse asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth. 

“I’m sure this whole arrangement goes… beyond the scope of your usual work.”

Jesse couldn’t hold back his laugh. 

“This may shock ya, but goin’ to a party’s a lot easier than getting fucked in the ass.”

Jesse could have kicked himself. The moment the words tumbled out of his mouth, Hanzo’s head snapped to look at him. Jesse had been crude, and now Hanzo was offended… or something… 

“What?” he asked. He refused to apologize for being blunt. 

“Nothing,” Hanzo answered, a little breathlessly, “I just-- nothing.”

Intrigued, Jesse slid one hand across the sheets, feeling over the silk pajamas to gently cup along the bearded jawline. 

“You can tell me.” Jesse said quietly.

He kept his fingers still as he felt hanzo skin get warmer, the trace of one of those adorable blushes he’d been seeing throughout the day. 

“I simply hadn’t imagined that many people hired you to… to be beneath them.”

Jesse’s mouth quirked up in sudden understanding. 

“You been imagining me on top a’ you, sweetheart?”

Jesse moved his pinky down so he could better feel Hanzo’s throat work as he swallowed reflexively. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Hanzo breathed. 

“I know.”

They were silent for a while, just lying there. Jesse’s pinky picking up Hanzo’s quick heartbeat. 

“You know it’s still on the table, right?” Jesse clarified softly, reticent to break the stillness, but feeling like it needed to be said. “Anythin’ you want, baby, an’ nothin’ you don’t.”

Hanzo stayed silent, Jesse might have thought he was asleep if not for the pulse hammering under his fingers. 

“Do you meant that?” Hanzo’s voice was so quiet, Jesse might not have heard it if he hadn’t been listening so carefully. 

“Of course I do.” Jesse tried not to think about what might have happened in Hanzo’s life to make him doubt that. “Should be true for anybody you get into bed with, but it’s definitely true for me. You say stop, we stop. But if you want to try somethin’, well that’s what I’m here for, ain’t it?”

He’d meant it to be a rhetorical question, but Hanzo nodded anyway. Jesse felt him swallow again, then his jaw moved as he licked his lips. 

“Would you--” Hanzo broke off and swallowed again. “I would be interested in kissing you again.”

Jesse couldn’t help but smile. He scootched himself across the divide of the king bed’s center and into Hanzo’s space before he gently brought their faces together. 

The kiss was soft. Sweet, much like the one on the beach, but the context was different here, laying in the dark on a luxurious hotel mattress. It was different too because of the silence. Jesse could hear the other man’s breath catch, could feel the little aborted movement of Hanzo’s hand toward his hip. Jesse adjusted the angle of his head and moved his hand off of Hanzo’s face so that he could bring the hesitant hand onto his hip. He suddenly wished that he hadn’t put on the old flannel pajama pants. He doubted they’d feel very alluring under Hanzo’s fingertips. Nothing like the expanse of silk that Jesse’s fingers got to glide across. 

He didn’t usually have to worry that much about seduction in these things, even less about pajamas or lingerie. If someone was hiring him, they probably already had a good idea of what they were after. His charm was in his rugged, old fashioned look and willingness to just about anything between the sheets. There wasn’t much time for seduction when the goal was as much sex as possible in an hour. 

Being with Hanzo was different. Coaxing Hanzo to open his lips and taste Jesse’s tongue felt like an accomplishment. Jesse wasn’t sure if any clothes would be coming off tonight, but his dick was already taking an interest in the proceedings. 

Hanzo’s hand had moved slowly upwards, fingers dragging along the warn flannel and over the waistband to ruck up under his shirt slightly. His fingertips played along the raised remnant of a scar, one from his Deadlock days, and along the slope of his hip. It wasn’t a timid touch exactly, but it was tame. Hanzo wasn’t taking any liberties, even when they were literally in bed together. 

In any other circumstance, Jesse would have pulled the client in close, rolled them so they were on top of each other, tangled up and feeling each others erections. But now, he tread carefully. He let Hanzo set the pace. There was no rush. They had until ten am tomorrow for Hanzo to decide what he wanted from Jesse.

Calculating the risk, Jesse let his tongue brush through the opening of Hanzo’s lips, earning a gasp from the shorter man. He hand on Jesse’s hip tightened and one of Hanzo’s knees came forward to rest against Jesse’s thigh. He pushed his luck. Jesse pushed his tongue in farther, coaxing Hanzo’s own tongue out and into his mouth so that he could suck on it. Finally, he earned himself a moan. Hanzo’s arm flexed as the hand on Jesse’s hip tried to drag him closer. The cowboy smiled but went willingly, pressing flush up against the japanese man’s body. He was surprised to find Hanzo fully hard already. The press of his cock against Jesse’s hip felt instant, even as the rest of him seemed focused entirely on Jesse’s mouth. 

Remembering Hanzo’s earlier admission, or near-admission, Jesse took a risk and rolled them over a bit until he was half on top of the other man. The answering groan made him smile into the ongoing kiss. Hanzo’s hands had abandoned their gentle quest, however, instead coming up to bracket Jesse’s face. His fingers twined into his hair, petting instead of pulling. It felt nice. Really nice and Jesse had to catch himself from pushing more, from grinding his hips into Hanzo’s and going beyond what Hanzo was comfortable with. 

To get some air, and give himself enough time to think, Jesse pulled away from Hanzo’s mouth, kissing a trail over his jaw and down his neck instead. Hanzo pulled in a huge, shuddering breath and moved one hand down to Jesse’s back, but didn’t object.

Some territorial part of Jesse wanted to bite down, wanted to leave large, obvious hickey’s all over Hanzo’s creamy skin. But he knew better than to try something like that. He kept moving, traveling down until he felt his tongue move over the contour of Hanzo’s collarbone. Carefully he brought one hand up to undo the top button of his pajama set, then another and another, distracting Hanzo with a scrape of teeth over delicate skin. Hanzo’s whole body shuddered and the fingers in Jesse’s hair tightened. 

“Jesse,” he gasped out into the quiet of the room. 

Jesse hummed into the warm skin of the other man’s bulging pectoral muscle. 

“Jesse I need you to stop.”

Slowly, Jesse extricated himself from Hanzo’s chest. He was still on top of the asian man, stuck in a semi-planking position over him, but they weren’t touching any more. 

Below him, Hanzo was taking deep, shuddering breaths. Jesse’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, he could make out the contours of the man’s skin where the silk was peeled back. Jesse could see the tension in the lines of Hanzo’s neck and the way his eyes were screwed shut.

“I don’t deserve this,” Hanzo said in a rush.

Jesse didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet. 

When it became clear that Hanzo wasn’t planning on saying anything else, Jesse raised a hand and carefully brushed some of the black strands of hair out of Hanzo’s face. He flinched as if Jesse’s fingers were hot brands. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he asked softly. He was trying to be slow, trying to let Hanzo get used to the idea of another man being interested in him sexually, but Jesse was beginning to think that he’d misdiagnosed the problem. 

“It’s not about what I want,” Hanzo said breathlessly.

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

Jesse couldn't see it, but he was certain that Hanzo was glaring at him. 

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Hanzo said, his voice as cool and smooth as glass. 

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.” Hanzo spit.

Jesse sighed. He let himself fall sideways so that he was next to Hanzo instead of awkwardly stuck in a half push-up on top of him.

“You’re right,” Jesse said with a sigh. “I don’t know your past. And I’m not going to ask you to tell me, since it’s pretty clear you don’t wanna get into that. I get it, I wouldn’t either if I were you. But I do know that sex is not dependent on your moral dilemmas. There have been much worse people than you that have had a hell of a lot of sex. You’re dick pretty obviously isn’t worried about it and I’m not either. So if you don’t want this, that’s fine. But if you’re only against this because you think you’re not good enough, then I think that’s a pretty stupid reason not to take what ya want.”

Jesse snapped his mouth shut hard enough that he heard his teeth clack together. He shouldn’t have said that shit. Not to a client. Especially not to a client that was feeling so shy. He watched as Hanzo’s chest rose and fell, slowing down from the fevered pace of earlier. 

“I told you last time that I no longer wish to be the kind of man that uses people for his own gain without considering the repercussions for them,” Hanzo said after a long pause. “I can’t go back to being the man who used others like that. I won’t.”

Jesse tried to bite his tongue, but in the faux-intimacy of the dark room, he couldn’t stop himself from asnwering. 

“But you ain’t usin’ me,” he said, exasperated. “You’re payin’ be to provide a service I’m more than willin’ to provide.”

“My brother’s paying you.”

“Same difference.”

“It is not--” Hanzo broke off with a frustrated sigh. “I let others decide what was best before and Genji almost died because of it. I won’t be that man again.”

Jesse thought of the white scar down the side of Genji’s face. Was that the result of what Hanzo was talking about? If it was, he could understand the man’s reticence. What would he do if a decision he’d made had lead to Mattie getting hurt? Jesse swallowed, thinking back to the Deadlock days, thinking back to the night they’d left. The bullet tearing through his arm, shattering the bone. What if that had happened to Mattie? Would Jesse have been able to forgive himself? He didn't have to think hard to know the answer. That didn't stop him from being stubborn, though. 

“Genji isn’t going to get hurt if you enjoy yourself sometimes,” Jesse said gently.

“He could,” Hanzo said very quietly. 

“Well he seems pretty intent on setting you up,” Jesse pointed out, trying to lighten the mood a fraction. 

Hanzo scoffed. “My brother is known for making bad choices.”

“He seems to have picked a pretty good wife.”

Hanzo let out a weary sigh. “That is true. Much has changed in the last six years. He’s grown into good man.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, trying to pry his mind away from the three thousand dollers in his boot. 

All at once, Hanzo seemed to reach a decision. He sat up in bed and turned on the light. Jesse screwed up his eyes against the sudden brightness. By the time he could see again, Hanzo was already unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and tossing it carelessly over the side of the bed. Confused, Jesse sat up and followed suit, tossing the old t-shirt onto the hotel carpet. His dick had lost all interest over the course of the conversation, but Jesse didn’t feel like now was the time to reach into his pants and try to correct that. 

Hanzo hadn’t really looked at Jesse’s body before. Besides the quick once-over when they’d met, Jesse had never really felt inspected by Hanzo. He felt that way now. 

Jesse could feel Hanzo’s eyes like a physical touch, sweeping over the old scars and down to the ugly place where the prosthetic met his skin. Jesse refused to feel ashamed. His body wasn’t perfect, but it was a map of all the things he’d been though. All the shit he’d survived. He wouldn’t be ashamed of that. 

Instead, he took the opportunity to look at Hanzo. The tattoo he’d gotten a glimpse of earlier went all the way up to his shoulder, a twisting design of dragons and storm clouds that managed to look ancient and modern all at once. There were a surprising amount of scars too, mostly deep, straight lines like one’s you might get in a knife fight. They weren’t marks he’d have expected to find on a man who’d grown up rich, who’d been served up a billion-dollar company on a silver platter. They weren’t as plentiful or obvious as Genji’s scars, but they raised questions all the same. 

“I’d like you to kiss me again,” Hanzo said imperiously. 

Jesse couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow.

“I can do that,” he said, not moving an inch. 

Hanzo looked at him expectantly, shoulder back and neck tense. 

“Anythin’ else you’d like?” Jesse asked, trying to keep the teasing in his voice to a minimum. 

Hanzo hesitated. 

“I’m not sure yet.”

Jesse hummed and brought his fingertips up to rest lightly under Hanzo’s chin before pressing the softest kiss to his lips. In answer, Hanzo let out a tiny sigh. 

“This ain’t a dare, ya’know,” Jesse said, pulling away. “I’m not tryin’ to force ya into anything.”

Hanzo’s deep brown eyes blinked open to look at him. Whatever they found in his eyes, it caused Hanzo to look down at the white hotel bedspread. 

“I don’t know if I could-- I don’t think I want…” Hanzo trailed off. He looked younger somehow, a little boy, lost in the white landscape of sheets. 

“What about this,” Jesse said, deciding he had to make a decision or they’d be locked in a stalemate all night. “It’s been a long night already. We could cuddle up and just go to sleep. If you wake up and decide you’re interested in something’ more, then we’ll do that. If not, we’ll just stick with the kissin’ and cuddlin’. That sound alright?”

Hanzo’s face didn’t change dramatically, but Jesse thought he looked relieved. Jesse threaded their fingers together and brought his hand up to kiss the back of it gently. With his free hand, Hanzo reached over and switched off the light. He didn’t reach for his shirt, so Jesse didn’t either. 

They settled together under the covers, both facing the wall that separated them from the bathroom. Carefully, Jesse placed his arm around Hanzo’s waist. He waited for it to be removed, but it wasn’t. Instead, Hanzo’s hand moved to rest on top of Jesse’s and then he twined their fingers together. 

Jesse closed his eyes and let his nose droop to rest on Hanzo’s shoulder. He’d have liked to say that it took him a long time to nod off, but after the long day, the dancing and the good food, Jesse felt himself slipping away almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. I know I promised Mattie and Hazel in this chapter, but in my defense, these two idiots were supposed to go right to sleep. 
> 
> The next chapter will be what was supposed to be the second half of this chapter before Jesse and Hanzo decided to have a feelings-fest. I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I'm currently working on editing my novel for pitching so I can become a publisher author (fingers-crossed) but I do plan to finish this story, albeit slowly. 
> 
> In other news, I have most of the story planned out at this point and I have at least a cameo planned for everyone currently in-game. The characters I can't seem to fit in are Symmetra and Echo. Echo may never be in this story and that may have to be okay, but if anyone has any ideas on how Sym could fit into this universe, feel free to let me know. 
> 
> Also, comments are the lifeblood of this story. Hearing from you guys and getting to know what you enjoy/if you're reading motivates me like nothing else. If you have the time/inclination to leave a comment, I'd hugely appreciate it.


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